


Everything in Moderation, Dearie

by darkandgritty



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkandgritty/pseuds/darkandgritty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very Dark Rumplestiltsken/Belle story. It's going to get darker, before it gets lighter. Non/con. Really messed up relationship dynamic. Will be violent. Will include stockholm syndrome elements, along with domestic violence and abuse triggers. Once again, a really dark story. You have been warned. Only read this if you are over 18. M For so many reasons. Many triggers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Belle spun slowly around the magnificent bedroom that was quite an upgrade from her previous accommodations within the Beasts castle.  Taking in every piece of furniture, the windows that climbed nearly to the ceiling, the pillows, the comfortable looking bedding.  It was even nicer than the room she had enjoyed in the castle she had grown up in. Her day had been spent reorganizing the china in the cabinets, polishing antique furniture, and scrubbing the floors. She had expected to spend the night once more in the dark cell that had been her home since arriving. Instead, The Dark One had led her here.

Raising her blue eyes to where he stood by the door, she murmured softly a tentative smile forming on her lips. "Thank you. This is a beautiful room. "

He smirked a little. "Well, dearie, you'll be a better servant if you're well rested. "

The claw like, darkened fingers of his hand moved to lift her chin. She could not prevent the shudder that ran through her body, the cotton of the periwinkle blue work dress she had chosen to wear over her chemise and the thin layer beneath were not able to contain the way her body shook at this proximity.  Withdrawing out of instinct.

"Tsk, tsk, dearie. You'll need to do better then that. After all, I have you for a lifetime."  The timbre of his voice seemed to scrape against every one of her nerves.

She swallowed, and lowered her eyes, and stepped back when he finally released her chin. Her hand moving to press over the sensitive skin, she was certain he had scraped with his nails.

Rumplestiltskin's eyes glittered as he watched her, step back. In a moment a pair of silver scissors was in his hand, and her brow furrowed as she watched him approach, freezing. Whatever could he want with those?

In a flash he had encircled his hand in a patch of her thick dark hair. As quick as the pinch from the tug was there, it was gone. In his hands, his reward for his actions. Smirking and twirling the dark curls around his middle and pointer finger of his right hand.

"Why?" She blinked, watching him, and moving to sit down on the velvet upholstered chair that sat at her new vanity. Needing the space away from him to clear her senses. Watching him from the mirror, so she wouldn't have to look directly into her eyes. She had a feeling in the base of her gut that she wasn't going to like the answer.

The Dark One laughed. "I have a spell I'm preparing that requires the hair of a virgin. "

Blushing brightly, she lowered her eyes to the marble of her vanity top.

"You are a virgin, aren't you, Belle?"

He took the few steps from the center of the room to where she sat, and in a moment the hands that were responsible for the deaths of so many, but also, for the continued safety of her realm, were upon her shoulders. She shuddered, "Of course!" The pink of her cheeks quickly going from flushed pink to rose, now to sunburn red. Her thoughts going back to the few moments she'd had with Gaston, and before him the servant boy Alex. There had been kisses, and touching, but nothing that felt nearly as intimate as the way this monster gripped on to her. She took a breath to steady herself.

"No matter." He responded mildly, the nail of his pointer finger beginning to guide it's way down the skin of her shoulder and arm. "If you're lying, that'll reveal itself as well."

 

"I am not a liar!" Ripping her arm away and trying to stand, but finding herself pushed back into the chair with surprising strength. His grip tighter then she would have expected, and a surprised whimper escaped her lips.

The hot, wet feeling of his tongue gliding down the back of her neck caused her to struggle further against his attentions, tears prickling her eyes. "Please. Don't do that." The terror she felt was palpable, and The Dark Lord took a moment to revel in it, before withdrawing his hands, and murmuring. "Yes, you taste like a virgin. I look forward to tasting you again when I take that from you."

Tears rolled down her hot cheeks, and he closed the door behind her, locking it. Of course. She gazed at herself in the mirror, before grabbing a jewelry box that sat on the vanity, and threw it with all of her might, watching as the glass shattered, the spreading of the cracks more satisfying then she had expected.

Dropping the wooden inlaid box, with a rose on the cover, and ignoring the pearls, rubies and silver and gold jewelry that spilled out and landed among the broken shards of glass. She noted, numbly that she'd managed to cut herself a little with the impact of the glass. Frowning, she rose, to explore the room.

Finding an attached bath, she moved in, drawing some water to wash her wounds, and sitting on the side of the copper tub as it filled. Ignoring the mirror that was on the opposite wall. She hadn't had good luck with those today.

When the tub was half full, she began to get undressed. Closing and locking the door, as if that could prevent him from joining her if he so chose. All the same, it gave her a shred of dignity to hold on to. She added some of the sweet smelling bubbles sitting in a glass bottle at the end of the tub. Climbing into the sweet, heated water, and watching as the red blood of the small lacerations on her arm pinkened the water around her, and faded into the color of the water, and disappearing.

Despite herself, she began to relax in the water. It had been so long since she had enjoyed a nice long bath, and the bubbles seemed to coax the knots and pain of her muscles away. It hadn't been labeled, and she wasn't even aware of the impending sleep, before it took her.

The Dark one was surprised to find his caretaker nude and asleep on the tub, when he had come to complain about his supper not being served on time as was his usual custom. He froze when he saw her naked in the tub, only bubbles to hide her attributes that he had been so eager to explore. Picking up the glass bottle she'd poured bubbles from, and chuckling to himself as he sniffed the Jasmine muscle and sleeping draught.

"One or two drops would have done the trick, dearie. Now you'll sleep like the dead for the next couple of nights. Everything in moderation." He smirked, and began the task of getting her out of the hazardous water, and somewhere more comfortable.

To his credit, he used his magic to lead her to her bed, heal her wounds as she slept, and when he slipped the white gown with the yellow ribbons around the waist and neck, he didn't take any physical liberties beyond those necessary for dressing her. And though he took his time with the 14 individual buttons that led from her navel to her neck, he didn't touch her. Simply laying her in her bed, and pulling the blankets up around her.

His eyes narrowed, as he considered that choice, brushing it off and muttering to himself. " She's asleep. What's the point?" And he gave one last glance to the brunette beauty that slept in his castle, the sleeping draught having drawn all the fear and worries he had caused her out of her expression. Her peaceful respite left him unsettled, and he locked her again in her room, and strung his bow, darting off into the forest. He had to kill something. That would make him feel better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting darker yet.

Two full days and nights passed before Belle finally opened her eyes. Blinking, disoriented. Expecting to be in the dungeon, and sitting up slowly, her muscles slowly awakening from the hibernation she had unwittingly thrown herself into.

Confusion clouded her mind as she struggled to rise to a sitting position, her limbs felt heavy and tired. She gave a little gasp when she saw his form standing at the foot of the bed.

He smirked in response and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and she struggled to pull her body away, and his hand tightened around her wrist to prevent it. Murmuring.

"The bubbles you used for your bath were a sleeping draught. One or two drops to ensure a full nights rest. You used half the bottle. I'm afraid you won't be very good for your duties for the next several days. You'll need to stay in bed."

She didn't like the way his eyes travelled down the length of her body, and though her wrist was still held by his vice like grip, she used the other hand to pull the down comforter up around her chest. Giving her another layer of protection from him.

Rumpelstiltsken's eyes danced darkly as she tried to hide herself from him, His mouth set into a firm line as he raised his hand and used his magic to banish the comforter to the other side of the room. She gasped in surprise, and the chill of the air caused goosebumps on her flesh.

"Since you are unable to complete your usual duties, I thought we might play a game."

Her mouth dried and she whispered, afraid of the answer. "What kind of game?"

His grin widened, and a delighted laugh split the silence the great castle, and she shuddered at the sound of it. His laugh continued, taking a more sinister turn towards the end. 

"A game where we get to know each other better. You will need to drink this." And he offered her a glass from beside her bed, of a pink, iridescent liquid. She studied it and glanced back to him. Shaking her head a little. She didn't want to play.

His hand tightened on her wrist, murmuring quietly. His voice all threat and danger. "It was not a request, Dearie."

Belle considered her options, or the lack of them. And after gnashing her teeth and squeezing her eyes shut, she exhaled and muttered. "Fine. But I expect you to be a gentleman."

His rich laughter caught her off guard, as he released her wrist, and she took the glass from him, drinking the syrupy sweet liquid in the crystal glass. Blinking at the warmth that coursed through her, asking after her first sip. "Is there alcohol in this?"

He smirked, and waited for her to finish the glass before answering. "Yes. That is one of the ingredients. The first question. Do you like to be kissed?"

And she blushed fiercely at that, not liking the direction this was taking, and attempted to retreat further into the perceived safety of her bed. Managing after a moment of steeling herself. "No. I do not like to be kissed."

The second the words were out of her mouth a scalding pain began in the base of her belly, and she blinked, gasping from it, Her hand immediately moving to her stomach, peering up to him wide eyed . "What have you done to me?!" Her voice strangled and sharp as the pain coursed through her.

His diabolical giggle did not help matters, and she began to thrash, trying to do something, anything to avoid the burn in her belly. Beads of sweat forming along the roots of her dark hair on her temples, her heart beat racing.

"You've all ready lied, Belle. Whatever will we do with you? Unbutton your first button."

She stared at him, and when she didn't immediately do as he ordered, she felt her arms rising against her will, to begin to undo the button. Even though her hands shook, as she battled with all of her might against her limbs that were possessed by magic, and cared little of what the soul of the inhabitant wanted. When the first button was undone, the pain ebbed away, and within a moment, the suffering that had her wondering if her captor had poisoned her was gone. 

"You said you aren't a liar, Belle. And you have shown that to be untrue. " He frowned, watching her. "Let's try this again. Do you like to be kissed?"

"NO!" She railed against him, and tears flooded her eyes when the familiar pain again invaded her abdomen, and she gasped from the strain of it, Feeling the fire continue up past her belly now and to her breasts, an agonized scream finally ripping it's way from her lips, and he leaned in, undoing the next pearl button of her nightgown, and the pain left once more.

This occurred three more times, before, finally she could take no more. A quivering, sweaty heap, curled into the fetal position on the bed. When he asked her again, she managed, her voice shaking.

"Yes. I enjoy being kissed."

The burn did not return and she peered up to him and he smiled triumphantly. murmuring. 

"Good girl."

His lips were upon hers before she could close her eyes, and she didn't have the energy to fight him off, but she didn't actively participate, and his displeasure was evident. He murmured.

"Not very good at it though, are you girl? We'll have to devote some time to education, I think. Next question. Have you ever touched yourself…? Here? *And his hand moved to rest against her most private spot and she gasped, blushing fiercely and crying out in embarrassment. "Of course not!"

She doubled over in pain when the burning response of the truth serum in the potion she had ingested reacted, in her belly again, but this time continuing down through her pelvis. She cried out, and he laughed, undoing another button. The sixth. And the pain left her. The nightgown was just barely revealing the curvature of her left breast, and she curled her body up tighter, and began to sob into the bed, and he slid into the bed beside her, and pulled her body against his.

"Shhh. It's nothing to be ashamed of. You're really going to have to stop lying to me, Belle. Your defiance… it stirs me." He added, pulling her tighter to him, his arms snaking around her small waist, and guiding her so that she could feel his need, hard and unyielding, through his trousers, and through the soft cotton of her nightgown, pressed against her quivering thigh.

His hand began to slide it's way up the pale muscles of her leg, pausing as he snaked his hand to begin to explore one creamy thigh and then the other. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she whispered "Don't. Please don't."

"That isn't part of the game, Belle. Do you like it when I touch you like this."

"No! I hate you!"

And while the second part of her statement was true, her bodies response to his touch was undeniable, and the pain that burned within her stomach was her torture for lying, but not nearly as much of a betrayal as that of her own body turning against her. His hands moved deftly up to unbutton the next button. His hands sliding past the cotton of her gown, to tighten around her breasts, Pinching at her rosy nipples, she whimpered, struggling against his touch. Kissing his way down her throat and shoulder, and asking again.

"Do you like it when I touch you like this?"

And she shuddered, knowing one more blast from the pain of his potion due to a lie would be too much for her to bear. And she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Yes."

 

He smiled, and gave a little kiss to her jawline before murmuring.

"Now we're getting somewhere. "

His questions continued, and her buttons stayed in place as he learned all of the ways she enjoyed being touched, before moving his finger to her slick entrance, whispering.

"Are you ready?"

"No!" Was her response, and no flames of pain accompanied her words, and he paused. A low growl escaping his lips. 

"You're not lying."

She shook her head, absolutely shaking from everything he had done to her. He hadn't penetrated her her yet, but he had touched every inch of her flesh exposed from the undone buttons, and much of the flesh below that, and though the shame of having felt pleasure at his touch was there, so too was her certainty of being afraid and not wanting to be taken like that.

He growled and undid his belt buckle, before pushing his hips forward to release his engorged member. She stared at it, horrified that the same dark ripple in his skin was there, between his legs. She looked at the monster there, and whispered softly. 

"Please, don't."

The Dark One growled again in displeasure, and wrapped his hand around her wrist, and dragged her hand down to his need, hissing. "Stroke."

When she tried to remove her hand, his grip tightened, and again, the unfamiliar feeling of her arms struggling against her wishes, as they moved to do his bidding, her soft hand encircling his engorgement. She squeezed her eyes shut, as the magic controlled her every move, tears rolling down her cheeks. His groans and moans sounded strange, surreal, as she tried to picture herself away from all this. He arched his hips forward, and with the magic guiding her, her palm cupped his tip, the hot liquid spewing forth, He lowered his hips, and growled a little.

"Next time, I will come inside of you And you will carry my heir."

He kissed her, and when she struggled against it, he used his magic once more, to coax her tongue into a dance, and when he broke it, she gasped for breath. He went to the bathroom, and threw her a towel after cleaning himself up. She used it to dry her hand, and she curled up on the bed, her back facing him, her body raw and ragged from the serum, the magic, and the lingering effects of the sleeping draught. 

"I'll bring you some dinner. And then we'll continue. Don't you dare button up, dearie. I want you exactly as I left you." His threat given, he left her, closing the door behind her the familiar click of the lock reminding her, as if she could forget, that this was her cage.

She wept into her pillow bitterly. For the girl she had been, and the woman that this monster would craft her into. And he wanted her to carry his child. The horror of a life with him, had never really touched her. She should have known it was coming, but she cursed her naiveté. He was a man, and a monster. How she ever thought she could have remained unscathed seemed a wonder now. She held tight to her pillow, and whispered darkly into it.

"I hate you, Rumplestiltsken." 

And she meant every word.


	3. Chapter 3

Hours had passed since he had once again locked her in her room. Not that she had the energy to rise and try to free herself, but the sound of the click reverberated in her ears, troubling her as she fell into sleep.

Nightmares plagued her. The forest around her was dark, and though she ran and ran, after about a hundred hards there would be nothing but trees in front of her, and she would turn and run from where she came, and the process repeated itself.

Each time her dream self ran, the space between the cage of trees became smaller and smaller, and she could see the glint of eyes, and fangs somewhere hiding just out of her sight, and a leaping wolf was the last thing she saw as she was shaken awake in the bedchamber The Dark One had provided her. 

Throwing her hands up to protect her face, yelping in terror at the bite she was certain awaited her, body still aching from the sleeping draught, not to mention the emotional distress she had been caused, a terrible sound of terror escaping her throat as she tried to protect herself from the certain death the nightmare had prepared for her.

His voice interrupted her nightmare, and she slowly lowered her arms to peer up to him, the words taking a few moments to process in her current state.

"Shhshhhh. Nothing more tonight. I just want you to eat. No more games. Not tonight." 

Blinking she pushed herself to sit up against the pillows, still disoriented, but deciding to trust him. Her nostrils flaring at the smell of something delicious, and she took in what he had sitting on her bedside table. A tray with supper. A salty, beefy and vegetable stew, some bread, and a slice of cake. Her brow furrowed and she asked quietly, her voice more raw then she had expected.

"You promise? You won't hurt me anymore tonight?"

Smiling thinly, he bent over the bed, one hand resting on either side of her body, his weight leaving an imprint in the mattress next to her hips and she tensed considerably, terror sparking in her eyes, and he chuckled, seemingly unaware that the sound was more disconcerting by far, then any her nightmares could imagine.

" Hush, dearie. I made you a promise, and if I am one thing, it is a man of my word. " He kissed her forehead. He rose, only a little, both hands moving deftly to work on the buttons of her gown. Continuing, a little curtly. "Though, with you displaying your wares, I can't say I won't shop…. Better to tuck them away for tomorrow, don't you think? " 

Paling she lowered her eyes a little and was relived to see that he was in fact rebuttoning the buttons on the nightgown. She took some deep breaths, managing softly after the very top closure was tight, revealing nothing of the flesh bellow the hollow of her throat.

"Thank you. For preserving my dignity." Before she could consider the error in her words, or realize that such a virtue would never have been in question if she hadn't been imprisoned by the man before her. Instead, she felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of gratitude, that whatever he had planned for her could wait for tomorrow. She wasn't certain in her fragile state that she could have played any more of his games. 

Grinning a little he moved to sit on the side of the bed, bringing the tray over, and setting it lightly on his lap. Turning his attention to filling the spoon. She opened her mouth tentatively, and he slipped the spoon into her mouth and she closed her lips around it, lowering her eyes. It was embarrassing, being fed like she was a sick child, but she was grateful. He was right about the draught it had left her exhausted, and with the emotional upheaval, it was taking every bit of her energy to keep her eyes open and herself sitting up. Savoring the bite, chewing the slice of carrot, the pea and the slice of potato that had made it's way into that bite. After swallowing she raised her eyes to his, confusion in her eyes.

"Who made this? This is better then my stew… Did you hire a new girl?"

Laughing, he shook his head, getting the next spoonful ready. Raising an eyebrow as she waited her answer. Taking that as an indication, she opened her mouth to eat more, and in response he rewarded her question. 

"No, a girl didn't make this. I did."

She stared at him, sputtering a little after managing to chew and swallow a chunk of meat and another carrot slice. "You cooked this?"

Tearing a portion of the bread from the bun he had brought up. "I was hungry. And you need to eat well if you're to get your strength up. I like the kitchen. Who do you think did the cooking before you moved in?"

Gobsmacked she ate the bread, and more of the soup with his assistance. Managing with the smallest hint of a smile. "Maybe I should use your potions more often, if it means you'll cook supper like this."

Surprise crossed his features, but quickly it was replaced with something else. A dark cloud had eclipsed the brief bit of sunlight as quickly as it had appeared, and he answered darkly. " The only potions you will use are those I tell you to take. And when you are on your feet you will be back to your usual duties. What good is a slave girl if you can't use her?"

Lowering her eyes back to the half eaten stew before her. Unable to hide the fact that she was once more beginning to tremble, the unspoken insinuation taking every bit of flavor in her mouth and turned it sour. She shook her head a little. "I didn't mean to upset you. Truly." Daring a glance up to him.

His fingers appeared almost darker, like he was fighting off something in the very nature of the curse that he had embraced and embodied when he had become The Dark One. Something that was now attempting beyond al reason within the man to come out to play once more. His fingers gripped onto the tray and he rose, setting it back on her bedside table.

Withdrawing from him as much as the headboard and pillows behind her would allow, she managed to whisper "You promised." Before his lips claimed hers. His tongue pushing it's way within her mouth, and his hand moving to tighten into her dark curls, his sharpened nails digging painfully into her scalp.

He continued the kiss, until he felt her yielding to it. He was claiming his territory, and her fear of what he would do with his proverbial flag if she didn't was too much. He pulled his lips away, glaring down into her face.

" So I did. Until tomorrow, then. When my promise expires."

"Please, Sir… I beg of you. This is all happening so fast, and you frighten me." Her voice was barely a whisper, and she blinked away the tears that began to flow freely down her cheeks.

Turning and stalking toward the door. Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, and turning back over his shoulder to study the quivering mess of a girl he wished he could say he regretted bringing into his household.

Despite warring factions within him, one battling to invade the lovely specimen before him, and the other urging him to slam the door and leave her to starve, there was something very quiet, speaking from within him. Something left over from his time as a human, and he murmured quietly. 

"I will sleep here tonight."

Words that should have terrified her surprisingly did not. And she bit her tongue from reminding him once more of his promise to her, blinking back the tears from earlier, and watching him a little warily as he climbed into bed beside her after pushing back the comforter. 

Still wearing his pants, vest, and undershirt, along with a cravat, his feet stockinged. Moving gingerly to pull her against him. She flinched a little, but relaxed when he didn't try to touch anywhere inappropriate, or worse yet force her to touch him. He only pushed her cheek to his chest, before wrapping his arm around her, and laying back after smoothing the blanket around them with a wave of his other hand, and a murmured incantation.

As she drifted off to sleep, she could hear the soft vibration in his chest, as he hummed a half hearted lullaby he had tucked away from too many years ago to speak of. 

The man that had once sang it began to wake within his heart, his presence unwelcome and arduous, adding another layer of difficulty to a situation that had not crossed his mind when he had made the deal that had led to his acquisition of the girl and the protection of her kingdom.

Humanity was a pesky thing, and for the first time in years he dreamed of something besides power, murder and magic.

The things he dreamt of that night were more terrifying by far. Human emotion, and worst of all, the possibility of love.

Waking in the middle of the night he dislodged himself from the girl sleeping soundly against his chest and left her quarters before he could do anything to break his word, or the grasp on the darkness that left him capable of being the monster everyone believed him to be.

Returning to his own bed he stroked away his need, and returned to a fitful sleep of slaughter and mayhem. When he awoke, he was refreshed, certain that the burst of humanity from the night before was tucked again safely within.

For there was work to do, and beauties to break.


	4. Chapter 4

When Belle awoke early the next morning, the first thing that noticed was that some time before she rose her jailer had left. Her body still ached from the lingering hold of the sleeping draught she had inadvertently overdosed on, but below the ache her muscles yearned to stretch.

Taking a deep breath and pushing the comforter off of herself, she pushed herself to a sitting position. Finding it much easier then the previous night she braced herself on the mattress and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Slowly beginning to put weight on one leg and then the other. 

Wincing, she pulled herself into an upright position, pausing to catch her breath by leaning against the bedpost. With some effort she took a few careful steps, using the nightstand and the bookcase she passed on the way to the Wardrobe. Finding her confidence, and taking the last few steps unassisted.

Triumphant that she hadn't fallen down, and that the normal feeling in her limbs was beginning to return, she glanced at herself in the full length mirror by the Wardrobe. Deciding immediately that the nightgown needed to be replaced with proper clothing. Layers, if possible. As much fabric as she could put between her and her Captor the better. 

She considered a bath for a moment before deciding against it. The tub had got her into some trouble the last time she had attempted it by herself, and she didn't know which of the varying bottles were shampoos and soaps, and which held potions, a dangerous variable she didn't wish to contend with. And maybe if she didn't smell as fresh as a bouquet of flowers he'd leave her be, she reasoned.

Turning her attention to the wardrobe, she opened it and stood in surprise for a moment at the gowns before her. She'd been accustomed to quality, but gown after gown of imported silks and jeweled ornamentations sewn directly into the fabrics hanging on the left and folded on the right, the wardrobe having opened on either side, revealing drawers, cubbies, and a cavernous closet that held every variety of gown a Princess could wish for.

Nibbling on the bottom of her lip she immediately eliminated all of the red and crimson. Deciding against the black as well, she found a dark indigo velvet corset overlay. Finding a chemise of soft linen, and fresh underthings, she began the task of removing her nightgown. Finding herself winded by the time the garment lay crumpled at her feet and wearing her bloomers, chemise darker blue under skirt, and the rich velvet overlay. Struggling to lace the corset herself, struggling with how it laced up the back. Missing a grommet and having to start over.

" Quite the show, Dearie. "

Paling, she glanced over her shoulder to where Rumplestiltsken stood in her doorway. Lowering her eyes, as he crossed the length of the room, his hands moving to either side of her waist. "May I?"

The courtesy of the question surprised her, heart racing from the proximity of him. She gave a little nod, and tensed as he unlaced her failed efforts and began to tug the overlay off. She yelped, struggling to keep it in place, her mind instantly going to the threats he had made and the fact that the promise he had given had long since expired with the rising of the sun.

Laughter escaped his lips, as he murmured. "You put it on backwards." She paused, considering his words and blushing as the realization of her error hit. She was a Princess, but the fashions were a little different here, and she was embarrassed. Yielding as he continued redressing her. He succeeded in pulling the gown off of her shoulders and giving a tug to turn it around so that it would lace up front, aiding her with the repositioning of the gown. With ease he laced the leather strip that held the corset together through the holes with surprising ease and delicacy.

Pulling tight at each juncture of the blue corset, she managed to stay quiet until the last yank, and she gasped as he tied it, giving a little grin as he appraised her, and the way that the tight lacing accentuated her tiny waist, and even more so the way it pushed her breasts up, he reached under her skirts, giving a fast and hard tug to the chemise to further the amount of skin revealed by her chosen outfit.

Stumbling forward a little from the force of the yank of her clothing, but he caught her with ease. His eyes alight, a delighted giggle slipping from his lips. "Yes. That's much better."

Guiding her to turn so she would be in front of him. His voice prodded her to gaze at their reflection. "An improvement, wouldn't you agree?"

Studying herself in the new clothing. Eyes widening at the level of décolletage displayed for his viewing pleasure. Blushing brighter and murmuring lightly. "It's a pretty dress, but I think I need a shawl…"

Laughing, he shook his head. "You will never hide those beneath a shawl. Especially not on a beautiful summers' day such as this. I see some of your strength has returned. I have prepared an energizing potion for you as well. We have plans for the afternoon. You will accompany me."

There was no question. His words were an order, no room for debate. He let his hands slide down her waist, still watching her reflection in the mirror. She asked softly. "Where are we going?"

"On a picnic." He removed his hands and walked out of the room, purpose in his step. Returning with a basket and a checkered cloth, her brow furrowed. That wasn't what she had expected, or feared. Blinking and echoing his words.

"A picnic?"

"Aye, a picnic, dearie. It's a beautiful day and I understand you don't have waterfalls anywhere near your region. You're to spend the rest of your days here, and you should be familiar with the geographical terrain of my Kingdom."

"You have waterfalls?" A smile brightening her face. "I've only ever read about them. There used to be a painting of one hanging over my bed… I mean, there still is, I imagine, back at home."

He opened the basket, returning with a small vial of yellow opaque liquid, uncorking it and handing it over, murmuring. "Drink." 

She didn't even pause this time. If it was another honesty serum, he'd be disappointed in how well she had learned her lesson. She remembered how that feeling coursed through her body and she was grateful when instead the potion she swallowed left an effervescent feeling tingling through her veins, and she blinked at the immediate effects. She could almost feel her muscles strengthening. Energy returning to her beleaguered form. Murmuring lightly. "That worked. Thank you."

A chuckle escaped his lips, and he licked them, his eyes glittering. " So polite. Truly, the perfect servant. Tell me…. Did you ever feel comfortable as a Princess? "

Considering his question, before answering honestly. "No. Not truly. I was always more comfortable with my books. I have nieces that I spent a lot of time with. I like children. I like animals. " She shrugged a little. "I have less interest in waging wars or making choices that can destroy livelihoods. Kingdoms." She shuddered as she considered the sacrifices she had witnessed made for the good of all. Wasn't that what had brought her hear in the first place?

A half smile on his face. "So if I were to give you a baby, a puppy and a library you'd be irrevocably content?"

Laughing a little, she gave a nod, deciding to go a more playful route given the direction the conversation was taking. "And I wouldn't even shirk any of my cleaning or cooking duties… Can we visit an orphanage for me to pick out a child some day?" 

He tilted his head, an enigmatic smile on his lips. " It's far more pleasurable to go about making a baby yourself."

Blushing as her smile froze on her face before failing, glancing quickly to the burgundy and beige rug below her feet, covering the polished wooden floorboards of her boudoir. Wishing she should carve her way into the floor and climb in, safely away from him, his threats, promises, and commentary that left her deeply uncomfortable.

His hand moved to her chin, lifting it and peering down into her face, eyes seeking hers, locking there, when he had her attention. " Listen, and listen well. " His fingers tightened around her jaw and she kept her eyes locked on his, riveted. Terrified of the words that were to follow.

" A man has needs. And a man who is also… whatever I am…." Chilling laughter interrupting his train of thought. Still holding her chin tightly with one hand as the other moved to grip around her waist. Gone was any illusion of the tenderness he had shown her the night before as he held her while she slept. "I have certain tastes. A hunger, within. I had high hopes for you Belle. You're beautiful. Intelligent. Resourceful. You have all of the ingredients for the potion, so to speak, but for some reason they aren't mixing. It's almost like the magic isn't there."

Tense, trembling nearly imperceptibly, aware of how he gripped her, she listened as if her life depended on it. And perhaps it did. " I take what I want, Belle. And I will take whatever you do not give freely. Do you understand?"

She gave a little nod and winced as he tightened his grip on both her waist and chin, pushing her face up forcefully. She swallowed hard, and whispered. " I understand."

Releasing her he gave a little nod. "And if I am not pleased with you, I will have to return you to your Father, a flower plucked… Who would have The Dark One's whore? And what fate would befall your people?" Studying her, and the impact his words had made before picking up the picnic basket resting at his feet. Offering the other crook of his arm to take in an exaggerated gesture of a Gentleman, a high pitched giggle escaping his lips. She paused for a moment before taking his arm, her face ashen and her expression grim.

" Shall we, My Lady?" 

Smirking, he led her through the twists and turns of his Castle, down the staircase, through the parlor before finally reaching the door. Murmuring an incantation it opened, and arm in arm with her captor Belle stepped out into the blessed sunshine of the day. Gazing up to the clear blue sky of the Heavens above, and did her best to keep the gathering clouds of her future from unleashing their inevitable emotional torrential downpour.


	5. Chapter 5

Months had passed since last Belle had felt the breeze of a beautiful day or the grass below her feet and she savored each moment, unsure of when she would feel the sun on her face again, without a glass pane between, or when she would smell the abundant wildflowers of his estate, preferring the true smells of nature to the aroma of the roses he kept around his castle. They bloomed with magic, and there was a certain acrid smell that clung to them, result of the Dark One's power, she didn't wonder.

Keeping a leisurely pace he led her through the marble courtyard, topiaries of monstrous creatures carefully tended by an unknown force. She shuddered a little as they passed a wolf that reminded her of her previous nightmare. Her small hand tightening around his arm, resulting in a chuckle.

"Is the garden too frightening? Perhaps you would prefer kittens and puppies?"

Blushing she loosened her grip a little, and in turn Rumplestiltsken tightened his. Her mouth went dry, and her gaze passed between the green leafy monster before her and to the other one, the breathing monster leading her down a path she had never imagined.

Refraining from commenting on his jab, she walked with him, and took slow, deep breaths to try and keep herself calm. In through the nose, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… and out through the mouth, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… She kept herself chanting silently in her mind, focusing on keeping herself as calm as possible, and allowing her gaze to travel along the flower beds, and elaborately carved benches. Spying a chess table, and asking softly after inclining her head in it's direction.

"Do you play?"

Laughing, he gave her a nod. "Of course, dearie. What kind of man doesn't know how to play chess? We shall have a game, you and I… but we have other games to play first."

Cradling the picnic basket, he began to pick up the pace of his step, and Belle found herself struggling to keep up. He had hurried her out of her bedroom, so she hadn't had time to grab her shoes, and she found herself feeling the burn on the sole of her feet as they made their way across the sunbathed stones. Ignoring her discomfort he focused on a sound in the distance, and asked.

"Do you hear it?"

Listening closely she slowly nodded. There was a sound not unlike the babbling brooks of her homeland, and a distant roar. Her brow furrowed and she asked. "Is that the waterfall?"

He nodded, leading her through a clearing of trees, the sounds growing as they approached their destination. She was as careful as she could be to avoid the broken sticks, and rocks along the way, the soles of her feet all ready smarting from their abuse.

"It sounds alive." She murmured, as he turned her to the left and led her closer to the roaring.

"It is. A monster screaming." He was deep in thought as they continued their approach, adding after some silence. " There are legends you know… Of beautiful creatures, feminine in nature and deadly as any blade. They lead men to their watery deaths, singing them into submission, sucking their souls out as they drown. Dining on the fabric of life's beautiful curtain."

"Sirens, you mean?" Belle asked. She was well read, and had always been intrigued by the concept, but had believed them a dark fairytale, meant to keep children away from the water, and men away from beautiful temptresses.

"Aye. Very good." He praised, moving to take her hand as he continued their trek. "I won't have to teach you everything it seems. "

Belle smiled up to him in response. She loved to read and considered herself well versed in mythology and folklore. She had read everything she could get her hands on from an early age. A habit she had picked up once more in the embrace of the dark castle, escaping within any of the many lands she found in the written word. It was nice to be recognized for her brain, instead of just her beauty or noble birth.

Rumplestiltsken paused for a moment, completely disarmed by her. Without a word, and only a simple rotation of her lips into a smile that lightened her entire face, she had distracted the monster, and the broken man he had been was peeking out, his expression forming into a grimace as the opposing factions began to war within.

Blinking she squeezed his hand, tilting her head, dark tendrils cascading around her face, her voice tentative. "Rumple? Did I do something wrong?" Peering up to him, her blue eyes taking in his expression with concern, and a touch of fear. She knew he was quick to anger, at the most inane questions, or glances. As if he was always just looking for an excuse to take out his anger with the world on her.

She tensed when his hand tightened it's grip on hers, eyes following the basket as it was dropped to the ground. He advanced on her, something glinting in his eyes, clumsily she stepped backwards away from him, unable to read the strange expression on his face. Noticing a pronounced limp in his gait as he moved forward, she continued backing away. Her heart was fluttering near out of her chest when she found she had backed herself up against the bark of an ancient tree, and there was nowhere to escape from her hand-holding captor.

A small smile formed on his lips, as he raised her hand, pinning it to the tree, his voice quiet, and his accent thicker then she ever recalled hearing it before. 

"You donnae need tae fear me, Belle." His eyes implored, before he bent to tentatively brush his lips against hers. His other hand moving to rest on her waist, not grabbing or groping as it often had in the past.

Belle found her mouth was dry, and she shivered. Despite and perhaps because of the difficult dynamic they shared she found her body responding to his tenderness, perhaps due to conditioning, or real attraction. The feelings were so corrupted, who could be sure? 

The Darkness within him briefly lost it's battle when Belle lifted her chin invitingly, parting her lips just slightly. Her eyes on his, leaning in and being rewarded with a kiss that was equal parts tender and coaxing. She shivered against his body as he pressed close to her, and marveled at the dance their tongues and lips were creating.

Grateful for the stability the thick tree she was leaning against provided, she broke the kiss softly, and confessing with a wavering voice. "I do like kissing you."

Remembering the earlier conversation, he grinned in response. Squeezing the hand he'd been holding the entire time, his lips moving from hers to begin to trail their way down her jawbone and to her neck. She gasped softly, her body responding in earnest to his attentions, and she blushed when she found herself arching her hips forward towards him. Gasping his name, a soaring sound of hunger weighed down by the heavy wings of shame.

"We'll never make it to the waterfall if you keep that up, dearie." His voice was husky, near her ear. She could feel the heat of his breath, and she nearly recaptured his lips. Realization of how her behavior must be viewed caused her a moments pause, and consideration of just what she was doing.

She blushed brighter, absolutely mortified that she had allowed a moment of desire to have inspired such a vulgar motion, most unbefitting of a Princess. "I'm sorry. Would you show me the waterfall? Please? " Letting her gaze lift to where he still had her hand pinned with his own and squeezing it back lightly, adding again after several moments of silence, an unreadable expression on the man before her. "Please, Rumple?" The quaver in her voice betraying more then she was willing to admit.

"We will." He promised, moving to press his hips firmly against her and the tree, the tenderness quickly changing to determination, as his other hand begin to slide down her waist and to the front of her thigh, first with her clothing in place, and then tracing the same pattern upon her flesh after he had whispered an incantation against her clavicle that made her bloomers disappear entirely. She gave a little whimper, and his hand continued to begin it's ascent to territory far more prepared for his advance then ever before.

One finger made it's way to her slick entrance, and he began to explore. She moaned in spite of herself, her body yielding in ways she hadn't imagined possible. Little cries of pleasure escaping unbidden from her lips as another finger joined to claim it's territory. A cry that echoed through the forest escaped her when he first began to toy with the elusive nub of pleasure that she had only occasionally explored, and never to completion. She bit her bottom lip to quiet herself, and the high pitched giggle that usually disturbed her left her exchanging a small smile with him, absolutely trembling still against the tree as she struggled to keep control of herself, her breaths becoming more and more labored.

Without any form of warning, he whispered another incantation, forcing her over the precipice, ready or not, and she cried out, the nails on her fingers digging into him, both where she had been gripping onto him by the shoulder in an attempt to steady herself, and with that other hand she'd been holding all along. The force of the magic, and resulting pleasure leaving her barely standing and holding on to him for dear life.

Pulling his fingers back from their temporary hiding place. Using his pointer finger to press against her lips, still slick and sweet smelling from his ministrations. Her brow furrowed and he grinned. " Hush. With a cry like that, it is clear the Siren I seek is before me. Lunch time, I think. You've worked up an appetite." Carefully he dislodged her grip upon him, and casually turned and moved to pick up the abandoned picnic basket.

When he walked away she took a deep breath, using the sleeve of her dress to dry her mouth, and to follow him, her skirts falling back to cover her legs and the treasure chest above he had plundered, and she had turned the key. She swallowed hard at the response, and did her best to keep up, keenly aware of the frequent shivers of pleasure after-shock of the welcomed onslaught. She swallowed hard and kept her eyes lowered, returning to her breathing exercises. As she followed him, she couldn't help but feeling the judgement from the trees and creatures of the Forest that had witnessed her embrace of the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

The Dark One guided her through the myriad of trees before the sound of the roaring waterfall signaled their arrival. Belle stood breathless, frozen at the beauty in front of her. It was far more beautiful, and magical then the painting above her bed back at home. The life and intensity of the force of nature before her left her wide eyed and silent as she took in the way the structure had been formed, and studied the slick rocks below, the way the water cascaded and splashed around them.

Letting her enjoy the beauty of it for a few minutes, Rumplestiltsken moved to set the picnic basket down, pulling out the red and white checkered tablecloth, and shaking it out before laying it down in one billowing motion. Beginning to set out the sandwiches, apples, and cookies he had brought with for their excursion, along with two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine that had started life at one of the local vineyards, that like many businesses in this part of the country, had owed him for one of his many favors, and in turn his wine cellar was always full. Uncorking the bottle with magic, he watched as Belle tentatively took steps closer to the waterfall and the spring it fed into. Clearing his throat, she froze and glanced over to him. 

" Come and dine with me." 

His words had a certain command to them, but were spoken gently. Instantly she turned away from the waterfall and returned to his side, moving to sit on the tablecloth, across from him. Her back to the falls. A small smile of approval her reward, he offered her an empty glass, and as she held it he poured in the fragrant wine, white grapes the overpowering flavor. Pouring her glass much fuller then was customary, before matching his cup to the amount. Lifting his glass in a toast and waiting for her to do the same.

She followed suit quickly, asking softly. "What shall we toast too?"

Smiling enigmatically he considered her question, before murmuring.

"Today we drink to new discoveries and pleasures."

Giving him a little nod and gently clinking her wine glass with his before taking a sip and watching over the rim of the glass as he did the same. When she realized he was watching her, Belle glanced away, her cheeks reddening. He began to pass out the food between them, and she waited for him to take a bite of his sandwich before she mirrored his actions. 

It was a quiet meal, filled with surreptitious glances, and lingering touches when one would reach for a cookie, or more wine. She was beginning to feel the alcohol course it's way through her system, slowing down her reaction time and making the world seem a little softer, the hard edges of nature around them softening as her song played, crashing, and soaring from the waterfall behind her.

Without thought of repercussion, the wine dulling her sense of self preservation, she reached for his hand and struggled to her feet, using his hand to steady herself before attempting to tug him up as well. He did not resist, smirking a little at the effect the wine had on his captive and her new found issues with balance. Clearly lubrication was essential in every way for his little beauty, and he enjoyed the after effect.

"Can we go swimming? I haven't swam in so long, not since last summer." A goofy grin lit her face, and he knew he couldn't deny her. Without another word he began to strip down, aware of her eyes on his form as he removed first his cloak, and next his leather doublet. She paused, her eyes wide "We can't swim in our clothes?"

"Swimming in your clothing is certain to weigh you down. I wouldn't risk you drowning. You're far too valuable of a servant. Difficult to replace. Not many Father's willing to give up their Daughter's like this… especially not daughter's with royal blood."

She nodded a little and began to fumble with the lacing of her corset. He'd never returned her bloomers, so one of her many layers had all ready been removed, and now she continued with the arduous task of stripping down. As she struggled with the laces he slipped his trousers off, stepping out of them, and moving to drape all of his clothing over a nearby rock. He walked forward, testing the water of the stream with his foot before wading in, turning when he was just above waist level, his manhood already at full erection, his hand moving to begin to stroke himself idly, stepping back further until his hand and member were both obscured by the stream, and he watched her, his eyes dark, tongue flicking out to lick his lips.

Struggling with the leather laces of her corset, she finally managed to undo the knot, sliding the corset overlay off, and taking a gasping breath when she was free of the strictures of the clothing. Hearing his little chuckle as she filled her lungs and diaphragm with the sweet smelling air. Blushing a little when she realized that all that was left was her muslin chemise, and she looked away from him as she slipped it quickly off, tearing it like one would a bandage from an encrusted wound.

Covering her assets as well as she could, she hurried into the water, giving a little cry at how surprisingly cold the water was, but wading to the middle despite the awful sound she had made. The water was it's own kind of clothing, and she shivered, glad that the deeper water when she was standing at the bottom reached above the cusp of her breasts, hiding herself from him. 

Laughing, he swam over to her, murmuring. " Hiding again? Wasn't swimming your idea?" She smiled, and before she could stop herself she found she was splashing him as he swam closer. "I said nothing about being naked, Rumple!"

He blinked in surprise, from both the term of endearment of his name that she had used, and also at the fact that she had splashed him. He hadn't been splashed swimming for a very long time. Not since Baelfire had been a boy, and that was a lifetime ago. Pushing the nostalgia to the edges of his mind so he could focus, he did what any sensible man would do after an attack. He fought back, splashing her in return, and she giggled, diving below the water and swimming a few feet away to avoid his splashes, laughing at her abysmal failure each time she swam away and he pursued her either with Magic, the water roaring to life in front of her, or from how he splashed her when she was within reach the old fashioned way.

After a good half an hour of swimming and splashing, fingertips wrinkled by the water, they emerged from the spring. Belle couldn't help but noticing that his need was still present, if anything, more so then when he had entered the water, and she was not surprised when by the shore, the white sand burning her feet, he wrapped his arms around her, both of them as naked as the day they were born, and kissed her hungrily. She returned the kiss, shivering despite herself, breaking it to whisper his name.

Slowly his hands began their ascent up her back until one was firmly planted on each of her shoulders and she blinked in confusion as he began to push. Brow furrowing she peered up to him, all ready beginning to yield to his pushing. He was stronger, by far, even without the aid of magic and for whatever reason he wanted her down in the sand before him, and he had been sweet to her today, hadn't he? Kissing her, touching her, serving her a picnic? Her brow furrowed as she considered that she didn't want to reignite his spark of cruelty that was always just below the surface, waiting for an excuse to burn.

Considering the possible dangers associated with struggling against him, she slowly lowered herself to her knees. Whispering. " I don't understand."

"Shhh. I'll show you."

One hand still firm on her shoulder, and the other moving to entwine within her dark locks, he gazed down at her kneeling nude on the sand before him, and a small groan of anticipation escaped his lips. 

"Touch me."

Tentatively she obeyed, her hand moving to encircle his shaft the way he had used magic to guide her in the past, and she began to stroke. He grunted in response, managing to give her direction. 

"Use your tongue."

Her hand froze and she peered up to him wide eyed, repeating him, confusion contorting her features. "My tongue?" 

He chuckled and tightened his hand in her hair instinctually pulling her closer to his need, and she gasped, tentatively moving closer and letting her tongue flick over his tip, her hand still encircled around him. His groan urged her to explore more territory, and she let her tongue slide as her hand stroked downward, following the natural progression of the movement, before he gasped. "In your mouth, Belle. Take me in your mouth. 

She peered up to him, wide eyed. The heat emanating from him, and the way the veins of his cock throbbed below her attentions, and she whispered. "I don't know how…" And she didn't. She'd heard stories from the maids back home, listened when they thought she was engrossed in a book as they discussed their sexual adventures. Being on her knees before a man, and taking him in her mouth had always seemed demeaning. Something she would never do of her own volition, but here she was, her heart pounding, and a warmth in her belly that propelled her lips forward.

Parting her pink lips she took the tip of him into her mouth, raising her eyes up to him for guidance, and The Dark One happily provided it. His hand tightening in her hair, as he thrust his hips forward. Her eyes widened as she opened her lips a little wider to accommodate him, and he groaned as he began to thrust his way in and out of her mouth, his tip gliding against the enclosure of her throat, more and more of him making his way in. 

Whimpering as she struggled to breathe, his hand tightening in her dark curls. He moved to guide her mouth up and down his length, his cries of pleasure growing as she brought him nearer to pleasure. He groaned. "Good girl." 

A shiver ran unbidden down her spine at his encouragement, and she was inspired to explore with her tongue, rolling her tongue up so that when he thrust into her mouth he rubbed against the satin underpart of her tongue, and his hand gripped tighter as he cried her name out in pleasure, his thrusts becoming more sporadic, and before she knew it he had lodged himself within the depths of her throat. As she gagged in response her throat tightened around him and he spilled his seed within. He gripped her hair still, holding here there as emptied himself.

She sputtered, gagging again, and he released her. Coughing, she wiped the corner of her mouth glancing up to him, and he gave her an approving nod. "Good. You're learning well." 

Lowering her eyes as he helped her to her feet, and drew her into an embrace. Tears sparkled in her eyes, shame filling her at what she had just done. Blinking at her response, he chuckled a little. "Now, now. No tears. For your first time that was good. Better then average. We have all of your lifetime for you to learn." He moved his thumbs under both eyes to dry her tears. "No more tears. "

Blinking back the onslaught of emotion, she wondered how he could misinterpret her response so thoroughly, but she did her best to tuck all of the confusing feelings that came from the encounter away. Hugging him tighter, in spite of herself. For the moment, she had pleased him. She would have to deal with her feelings towards this, all of this, on her own.

Taking her hand, he murmured. "Now, it's time for the waterfall." 

The rest of the afternoon was spent swimming and marveling at the nature that surrounded them, as Belle wondered what new lessons the evening would reveal.


	7. Chapter 7

The pathways through the forest past the waterfall were more treacherous in dusk. Surefooted, Rumpelstiltskin kept one hand on Belle's waist, guiding her and finding himself needing to catch her on a few occasions when the twisted roots of the undergrowth along the path caught her foot and sent her stumbling. By the time they reached the gardens he had grown quiet. Reflective. His eyes gazing upward to the full moon.

Belle raised a brow once she was safe on solid ground again, able to guide herself now, though his hand remained. Squinting heavenward at the subject of his gaze. Murmuring softly. "It's a beautiful night." He nodded in agreement, before letting his eyes move from the moon to her again. Taking her arm and dragging her along behind him. A dark energy rippling beneath his skin.

Despite the beautiful afternoon they had spent together, something else was again emerging. It frightened her and she struggled to keep up with him, taking her cues from him and going silent. Doing her best not to draw his attention to her when he was in this kind of state.

" The moon is high, the time is nigh…" His sing-song voice echoing through the gardens as he gave a more violent tug, the Dark Castle looming in front of them. "Soon you'll bleed, but you mustn't cry. " He punctuated his ditty with a twisted giggle and a horrible shudder worked it's way through her spine.

Repeating himself, he tugged her up against his body, her back feeling the impaling presence of his need. She swallowed as he whispered gravely against her ear, his hand moving between her thighs, cupping the fabric of her dress, pushing upwards, hissing against her ear. "Soon you'll bleed…" Hand remaining there grabbing the fabric, the other beginning to climb up her front, moving to press tenderly against her cheek. His words grave, all of his earlier humor gone, but the ferocity remained. " But you mustn't cry, Belle."

Her voice quivered a little as she whispered. "Please, Rumpel. You're frightening me." His grip tightened on the fabric in the front of her dress, the hand that had been pressed to her cheek moving instead to her throat, and beginning to tighten. She thrashed, struggling for breath, and fighting to turn so he could look in her eyes. Certain that if he could see what he was doing, he would stop.

The Dark One tightened his grip on her throat but pulled her around in-so doing, wanting to make his point very clear. "You are to stop these pet names, dearie." Her fear was too much with her restricted airways to point out the irony in his statement. "You are to call me nothing but Master from this point forward. Do you understand?"

Fingers only tightening around her throat she managed a strangled cry. Unable to discern her response from the gurgling cry he stroked his way down her throat and to her chest. His voice quiet, and cold like steel. " Do you understand?"

"Yes." She gasped. A hand moving to her throat that was quickly bruising from the short but brutal attack. Noticing the darkening of his eyes, she added quickly. "Master. Yes, Master." Her voice shaking as she struggled to remain upright. Reeling at the sudden change in the man she had spent such a lovely day picnicking, and swimming, and other things too. Intimate things. She was hurt by the change in him.

Placated by the proper phrasing he relaxed measurably and guided her back into the Castle. Taking a black leather satchel from a table in the main sitting room he led her back to the room she had been imprisoned in.

Silently she followed him, a heavy sense of foreboding weighing down her steps. Her eyes drawn to the bag he was carrying. The wings of terror fluttering against her chest, disguised as the quickening of her heartbeat, she followed. He opened the door to her bedroom and she followed him inside. The door slamming shut with the aid of his magic, the second she was inside. She jumped and turned to look at the thick wood of the door. Wincing as she heard the telltale click informing her she was locked inside. This time with her captor.

Rumpelstiltsken had busied himself with arranging the contents of his satchel on the bedside table. A large metal and glass syringe with a needle that seemed unnecessarily long attached to it. An empty phial. A ragged book, the binding worn, the title indiscernible. And a black walnut phallus. Carved and sanded smooth. Belle turned to watch him, and as he closed the satchel she hazarded a question.

" What is all of this?" 

Setting the satchel down he turned his gaze on her. Considering if he was going to answer her at all, his countenance hunched, all of his muscles taut. Finally he answered.

" For your virgin blood." He gave a nod over to the tools on the table. She paled, following his gaze and listening numbly as he continued. Her eyes on the wooden piece more then anything else on the table. 

Continuing in the tone of an apathetic Doctor, his gaze placid as she quaked in fear. " This process is the easiest way to ensure less of the ingredient is wasted. "

Shaking her head as she tried to digest the knowledge of what he intended, murmuring quietly. "No. You cannot do that to me." Her voice stronger then she had expected, fear and rage coming together and adding ferocity to her words. "No. You will not. "

Laughing he turned to face her. Incredulously. "Do you believe for one moment that you have a say? A choice? You stupid little girl." His face contorted into an animalistic expression and in a sharp motion he had extended his hand, pointing to the bed. When she didn't immediately move to do his bidding he began to advance on her.

Terror propelling her forward she was halfway across the room before she realized she was running for the bathroom. He clearly hadn't expected her to give chase and was slower in his advance due to it. She managed to slam the door closed before he reached her. Locking it and pushing her own slight frame against the door as she struggled to keep him out.

The click of lock opening was almost immediate and she began to openly weep. Pushing harder against the door, desperate for something, someone to intervene on her behalf. But there were no rescuing princes to save her. Magic hit her hard and she was propelled forward from the door, crashing into the opposite wall and crumbling to the tile floor.

Raising defeated eyes as the door opened. Her captor was in a rage, his skin rippling with the darkness of his curse. "You stupid bitch!" He screamed as he crossed the few steps into the bathroom to her crumpled form. Hand entangling in her long dark locks and pulling her roughly to her feet by her hair. Several strands being pulled out by the root on her way up. Whimpering she struggled valiantly against him.

"Rumpel, please!" She pleaded, tears pooling in her bright blue eyes. Her brow furrowed in pain and fear. When she spoke part of his name again he shoved her forward so she was facing the full length mirror opposite the tub. 

Silently he removed from his doublet pocket the same scissors he had used her first night in the bedroom. Giving them three sharp clicks right beside her ear, a cruel smile twisting his lips at the pleasing sound and the way she quavered before him. Tugging portions he began his work of stripping her of the long satiny dark waves that had been her crowning glory.

Confusion contorted her features as more and more of her hair fell on the ground around her, some strands falling to her shoulder instead. Tears began to roll down her cheeks as she stood frozen watching her reflection change drastically in the course of a few moments.

Replacing the scissors he surveyed his handiwork. Her hair shorter then most of the village hooligans, and uneven and awfully cut. He smirked and muttered. "Not such a beauty anymore, are we?"

Silence was his response. Belle was still crying. Her small shoulders shaking as she did her best not to let a single sound of her mourning reach his ears. Her hair was a small thing in the scheme of it all, when she considered the instruments on her bedside table waiting for her.

He walked out of the bathroom, gathering his satchel and the items he had intended to use on the girl. Putting them back into the leather bag and glancing over his shoulder to where she still stood at the mirror.

"I warned you. I gave you clear instructions, and you did not follow them. You failed to call me Master and to submit to your duties here. Next time you defy me, I will slaughter your countrymen." His voice was scathing and full of promise. The door to the hallway unlocked and he stepped outside, calling from the hallway before closing the door. "It is your blood that will stop me from draining them of every drop."

The door slammed shut again, the familiar click resonating in the room. Belle gazed at the stranger in the mirror one last time and stumbled her way to the bed, her vision obscured by her tears. She crawled into the bed, curling up and crying bitterly into her pillow. Her hand moving to run through the shorn mess that had once been so beautiful.

Something caught her eye from the periphery of her gaze on her bedside table and she turned to look closer, wiping her tears away and blinking rapidly to clear her eyes of the new recruits that continued to arrive in liquid form from her tear ducts.

On the table remained the wooden phallus. For some reason she had left it. Grabbing it and throwing it across the room, the sound of the instrument hitting the wall echoing for a moment in the room before it landed on the floor, cushioned by a rich rug no doubt pilfered from a neighboring land. 

Curling up into a ball she wept until merciful sleep claimed her for a brief respite from her sorrows.


	8. Chapter 8

His leather boots clicked as he stalked down the hallway. Knocking down vases, and tearing tapestries that got on his way. Rage and another emotion, one of many that had been long forgotten and reawakened by the presence of that vexing girl. How after all this time something human still remained below, and the Darkness within him was doing it's best to destroy the vulnerable threads of humanity. 

The Dark One had a plan. Had, since his research in his various grimoires had revealed a surprising spell. He had been searching for uses for the virgins hair, and happened upon a tremendous spell. One that had the ability to completely alter his life. To fix all the wrongs he had done. To return Bae to his side, so that they could rule together. Surely all of this time in exile had left him yearning for his Father, and even more, his Father's power.

Virgin's blood was only one of the necessary ingredients. His expression darkened as he considered the other necessary elements to the spell. Some would be easier to come by then others, and one in particular would require great sacrifice. He stomped his way into his own sleeping quarters and slammed the door shut behind him.

Belle was not allowed to clean in here. This section had always been off limits to her. For her safety, and his, and truly that of the Kingdom. This was where he stored more of his dangerous magical items, the darker of his magical texts, and the energy of the room was so powerful that when she cleaned anywhere near it, the girl became sad. Had dark thoughts of hurting herself, that she never entertained on her own. When she had voiced this to him, he had forbidden her from entering the wing all together, and it seemed to have helped.

Rumpelstiltsken was used to the darkness. Thrived in it. The curse had greatly altered his ability to process the emotions he was taking in or causing, and the heavy melancholy, rage and hopelessness that were found in this wing were worn by him in layers to protect him from far more dangerous emotions.

Cobwebs lined the corners, a thick layer of dust on the floor. He sat down in his leather chair, and poured himself a glass of whiskey from the decanter on the table, stacked heavily with books and scrolls around the smudged glass he had been drinking from every night for the last several months. He poured it to the brim, and lifted it to his dusky lips, taking a long drink and closing his eyes. Considering the options.

Blood was required, and it was all needed. He could use the magic, but he couldn't trust himself with the rising feelings he had for the girl. The afternoon had revealed that. She had a hold of him. Her own kind of magic, and it was not the kind he was used too or comfortable with.

Squeezing his eyes shut to try and shove the image of the weeping girl he had spent the afternoon romancing, and the rest of his life tormenting. Why had he cut her hair, he wondered, taking another comforting gulp of the alcohol. She had defied him. Ruined the first step of a complicated and devastating plan. She had to pay. She was lucky, he decided, that she had only taken her hair. She would thank him. Or should. Ungrateful wretch probably wouldn't even realize the favor he had done her.

He opened his eyes and set the glass down. Reaching within the trunk near his feet, and opening it. An enchanted hand mirror lay inside. Reaching for the sculpted precious metal handle, the gold of it shining in the faint moonlight shining through the dirty row of windows behind him. Turning it over after a moment, studying the engraved rose on the back and turning it again. Muttering the incantation required to see with it, and muttering. "The girl." In direction of what he wanted to see.

Still awake and weeping, she was curled up into the fetal position. The sight of it causing his stomach to seize unpleasantly, and a sound of a growl and whimper escaped his lips. A horrible shudder running through him. Setting the mirror down where he could still see her if he wanted too, but not wanting to break the enchanted object. It was too valuable, and had aided him in thousands of deals.

Contracts were unbreakable, and he had a contract with himself. There were things that had to be done. There was no way around them, and he would not allow himself to be weighed down by petty moral obligations. He was a Monster, and with such a title came carte blanche to do what you liked. He LIKED this. Didn't he? Of course he did, he reasoned with himself, beginning to pace his way around the cluttered and filthy room.

Justification came easily to him. It soothed the pesky tugs of emotion. A ready balm to calm those times when he thought he had a choice. There were times he had pushed it away. The way he had kissed Belle in the forest. The way she made him smile. The darkness returned again and again, and he had learned early on through his worst days when he had lost Baelfire that reasoning away what he did. Finding excuses, someone else to blame. It eased his pain, and what remained of that was less and less each time he patched himself up with lies, his armor thicker and more impenetrable then before.

Returning his gaze to Belle crying on the bed, and nodding with a slow satisfaction. Pausing as he stood over the mirror. A slow smile rising to his lips. She should be grateful, he decided. With her beautiful hair gone, surely the stirrings within would lessen, he convinced himself. What needed to be done could be accomplished with more scientific steps. The emotions would have gotten in the way. He would have to do better, to keep her from having the opportunity to sway him with her eyes, her lips, her smart, sweet words. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned the mirror over and started toward his desk. 

The leather book he had pilfered from Maleficent's castle after her unfortunate end was at the top of the stacks of books. Taking it and heading to the door that led to his bedroom. A large bed in the center and he headed directly for it. Setting the book beside him and sitting on the dark green velvet bedspread. His hand running over the side next to where he slept, letting his mind wander for a moment to impossibilities. 

Growling a little at his moment of weakness he sharply withdrew his stroking hand and turned his attention to his boots. Yanking them off, and wrinkling his own nose at the smell of his feet. The dampness from the waterfall fed lake and the wool of his stockings, and the sweat from the walk, and the anger had left a smell that turned even his own nose. Belle would wash them out, he knew, and have them back to new quality in no time. She could be counted on. For a slave girl, she was useful. And she rarely defied him. Tonight had been different, but he had requested ore of her then she had expected. And perhaps his bedside manner had been a little abrupt. 

It was better this way, he reasoned as he removed the other boot, and both of the soaking, stinking socks. Scooting himself back on the bed and bringing the book with him. Laying down on his mountain of pillows, and turning the page with the spell he had happened upon. An answer to a prayer some might have called it, but he knew better. There was no goodness in this spell, nor in the man that wanted to cast it.

His gaze settled on the words, digesting their meaning again. The feelings mixed, as they had been since discovering it. In the evil fairies neat cursive in black ink.

" Blood Summoning Spell --------

\- To bring back they who are lost  
\- Be certain, be sure.  
\- You must sacrifice   
\- The blood of the pure.

\- An exchange shall be granted  
\- The life of your seed  
\- New and enchanted  
\- Will fuel the spell when they bleed.

\- The life of an infant  
\- Sired by the Father  
\- The sought one so distant  
\- A trade of blood not water.

"

He read over the explanation and the details once again, to make certain he had interpreted it correctly. Sighing heavily at the task he knew would be coming. Closing the book and settling down to sleep, exhausted by the days activities. He had to do this, he reasoned with himself as he struggled to find sleep. There was no other way. He need to save Baelfire. He had promised himself he would, at any cost. 

All magic comes with a price.


	9. Chapter 9

((Apologies for being away so long. My real life kind of exploded and storytelling has fallen to the wayside. Thanks to some helpful prompting, here is an update, meager as it may be. My apologies about my extended absence, and full disclosure, I am unlikely to update in a timely fashion. My muse is currently locked in the basement for her own good, while I try and nurture myself and my family. I feed her on occasion. She won't die. She even has a little window. -- Also, fair warning and disclosure I haven't watched even a single episode of this season yet. So this is all darkness from the recesses of my mind. From what I hear this season gives Rumpel some darkness which may explain the rise in traffic. So welcome to you dark and twisted types. You are among friends. As demonstrated by the very messed up chapter below.))

 

Belle woke with a start. It had been a fitful night with terrors that had pursued her to every corner of safety and sanity she had left. Her sheets were soaked from the sweating of her night terrors. Gulping for breath, her blue eyes wide as she looked around the room for the source of her instant waking and the terror that accompanied it. Finding herself quite alone, she took some deep breaths to calm herself. Rising to her feet a little shakily, and startling herself with her own reflection in the mirror. The shorn and uneven dark remains of her hair looked even more wild after a restless thrashing night.

Her hand moved to stroke over the sweaty ragged locks. Her brow furrowing at the stranger in the mirror, but instantly tensing when she heard footfalls in the hallway and the click of the lock turning in the door frame. Turning to look over to the door, and tensing when the Dark One entered the room. His shoulders were hunched and the look of determination and mania on his face did nothing to engender calm in her. She took a step backward, but only for a moment. Her eyes moving to his flicking wrist with the pointed finger indicating she was to move to the bed. 

Weighing the risks and her options she gave a silent nod, and made her way to the bed, her limbs feeling wooden as she moved, her heart beginning to race. The realization that something worse then she had experienced so far was on the horizon drained the color from her face as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed. Watching him, wide eyed, looking very little like the pretty Princess who had arrived to tend his castle and resembling instead a terrified woman that could have been any number of unfortunates, they littered the countryside as common as dandelions in the meadow, the number of women who had been used and abused by men in positions of power.

His voice was crisp and commanding. "Where is the tool I left here?" His gaze moving from her to the bedside table. She let her eyes move toward the corner of the room where she had thrown the carved phallus. Ignoring the look of displeasure that contorted his features and instead focusing on her hands, that had gripped each other for comfort. Looking for all intents and purposes like she was praying, but she knew better. No whispered words would change the trajectory of this nightmare.

His boots thumped their way to the other side of the room, and he retrieved the thrown apparatus, and approached. Holding the leather satchel, and again opening it, and beginning to arrange the items on the table. Belle couldn't bring herself to raise her eyes to his preparations.

" You have a choice. "

Raising her eyes finally to his, a small flicker of hope igniting within her. Whispering softly. "A choice?"

Hands arranging the tools of his trade, he continued after a moment. "We can do this quickly, the way I would prefer, to ensure the best outcome. With this. " His hand lifted the carved walnut phallus and she shuddered.

"Or, I will take you. Neither way will be pleasurable for you, but the latter will take longer, and some of the ingredient could be spilled. "

Swallowing hard, she asked her voice a little shaky. "That is my choice? Master?" The title he had insisted she use dripping with sarcasm. 

The Dark One's eyes narrowed and he advanced, the phallus in his left hand, and the right raised, and before she could blink he had slapped her full force with his open palm. She winced, tears instantly brimming in her eyes. Looking up to him, her gaze wounded. 

Unyielding, he hissed. "Make your choice. " She blinked back her tears and pointed to his left hand, certain that he would hurt her either way, and she could convince herself she was still a virgin, after this assault. Though she knew deep down it was only delaying the inevitable, she could not allow herself to submit to him, to offer her virginity, though the alternative was equally as frightening.

Giving a pleased nod, Rumpelstiltsken went immediately to work. An incantation and a delicate wave of his cursed and darkened hand left her bereft of her clothing once more. Usually when he undressed her, he took pleasure in touching her and tormenting her, seeming to especially enjoy illiciting a physical response from her. Gone were all of those niceties, as he firmly pushed her back on the bed, and moved his hands to adjust her legs hoe he wanted them. Making her put her feet on the bed, and part her thighs so he could see what he was doing.

Glancing away from him and what was going she blinked back tears. Trying to take some deep breaths to calm herself. It was clear that he would be wasting no time, and this was in no way how she had hoped to spend her morning. Having hoped that the brightness of the day would help dispel the darkness he had displayed the previous night, but the stars were not aligned in her favor.

"You must do your best not to move, or there will be consequences." He warned. Her hand immediately went to the apple of her cheek where he had slapped her, a bruise all ready beginning to form. She gave a little nod, to show she had understood his instruction, and would do her best to obey.

Frowning, he shook his head a little. "No, it is better not to risk you thrashing around." Digging deeper into his satchel and pulling forth a dusky purple liquid. Swirling the contents around before uncorking it. "Open your mouth." 

When she paused, and didn't instantly obey his hand went to her jaw, pushing forward with painful force before she finally opened her mouth, and he held her mouth in place as he poured the mauve liquid into her mouth.

Within moments before his explanation even began, she was feeling the effect of the potion. Her limbs going limp, completely emotionally and mentally aware of her surroundings but unable to move physically beyond that of shallow breathing. Her heart even slowing from the effect, despite her abject terror of what was to come next.

"You will slowly begin to lose the ability to move your arms and legs. You won't need to move much, anyhow." She winced as a sharp pain arose on the tender flesh of her inner thigh. "I'm pinching, to demonstrate that you will still feel everything. " Tears spilled forth from her eyes as she closed them and took as deep of a breath as the magic now coursing through her veins would allow. She had hoped perhaps he would spare her the pain of what was to come next, at least the physical portion, but it was clear that was not to be.

Using his magic to again position her how he wanted, he murmured. "It's time."

Unable to raise her neck to see what was happening, all she could make out was the top of his head, and suddenly a piercing, terrible pain. A scream escaping her lips. Nothing he had subjected her to so far had fully prepared her for the pain involved. The tender touches and kisses, or even the more forceful attentions he had given her in the past perhaps would have softened the experience, readied her body more, but there was nothing yielding about the wooden phallus that stole her maidenhood.

Through the haze of pain, she marveled at the concept that all of her value as a Princess had been annihilated with one motion. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she was vaguely aware of him using magical and medical means to collect her virgin blood. Though he had only referred to it as an ingredient. The absurdity of that striking her, as she struggled to breathe her way through the pain and the enormity of what had been taken, and what it meant.

Within minutes he had finished gathering what he needed. Covering her with a blanket. "The extraction was successful." She watched him through the haze of her tears as he moved to set the phial complete with her blood in it in a secure compartment of his satchel. The blood stained phallus following into the satchel, and after he had buckled it closed he moved back to her. His hands moving to smooth the blanket over her body. Almost reverentially. As if she were a sacred object, instead of a woman that he had just violated.

Bending down he placed a single kiss on her forehead before heading to the door. Pausing there, his only words of advice "Try and sleep." before he disappeared into the hallway. Still, though she was immobilized by magic, the lock clicked.

Left alone, she stared at the top of the canopied bed, and at the tapestries. Fascinated by the wrinkles and color differentiations of the crushed velvet. Unable after long to distract herself with anything else, unable to turn her head, she began to cry. Softly, and quietly to herself, she didn't want him to hear the results of his action, knowing part of him would only smile at what he had done, and she was worried what the action would do to the part of him that had shown her tenderness and kindness, and when she was done crying for herself she began to cry for him, unable even to curl up into a ball, or wipe her own tears. 

Helpless, and broken she wept until she could no longer. Sleep refused to claim her, and she lay alone in the silence of her isolation, the quiet rain, and dark skies outside her window reflecting her despair.


End file.
